Did I Ever Think to Tell You (That I am a Monster)
by glambertcello
Summary: An AU where nobody except for a few key S.H.I.E.L.D. agents know that Bruce and the Hulk are the same person. So, when Bruce begins dating Tony, he has to hide this fact from him at all costs. Rated T just in case it needs to be in the future. I don't own anything! Science Boyfriends. Inspired by "Monster" by Kris Allen.
1. Chapter 1

**[I shall begin by apologizing for the length of this first chapter. This fic began splitting itself up by chapter, and since I wanted to remain consistent, the first chapter is four paragraphs if you ignore this not-so-little blurb at the beginning. It'll get longer, I swear. And if I remember, I'll make up for it by posting chapter 2 tonight (I might forget, though, so don't hold me to that).**

**This is my first Science Boyfriends fic in a long time. I was listening to "Monster" by Kris Allen, and the lyrics suddenly constructed an AU where nobody except for a few major S.H.I.E.L.D. agents knows that Bruce Banner is the Hulk, including Tony, and he has to fight to hide it. I loved the idea, so began writing it down, and I'm excited about where's it's headed.**

**Obviously, I don't own the Avengers. I'm rating this as a T fic just because I don't know exactly what path it will take. However, I do know it's not going to wander into M territory, so if you're concerned about that, don't worry.**

**I hope you guys enjoy! :) Let me know what you think!]**

Bruce had always known that his secret couldn't be kept for forever. While he had fought so hard for so long to keep it contained, there was always a nagging voice that liked to remind him that all was for naught.

Even though Director Fury had sworn Bruce was safe from curious eyes—so long as he stayed under S.H.I.E.L.D.'s protection and didn't attract attention, that is—Bruce knew his work wouldn't hide the Other Guy forever. Someday, something would unleash his monster, and then all eyes would be on him. He couldn't escape from that, not when his downfall was inevitable.

So why did he fight for so long?

The answer was simple: Tony Stark.


	2. Chapter 2

**[Sorry I'm a little late. My parents took me to go see the Little Mermaid live at our local theater, so we got back really late.]**

"Impressive," a voice behind Bruce said, startling the paranoid doctor to the point he let his flask slip from his fingertips. It shattered, the chemical oozing out all over the counter.

Instantly, gloved hands were assisting him in the disposing of the material before it ruined the counter. Grateful, Bruce turned his head to offer his thanks, only to halt, his voice disappearing at a glance of his helper.

Fury had warned him about Tony Stark when the man had been added to S.H.I.E.L.D.'s contact list. "He's volatile, self-obsessed, and you sure as hell can bet he doesn't play well with others. If it wasn't for his good attributes, I wouldn't have invited him on the Avengers Initiative project, let alone give him directions to our base."

"And what are his good attributes?" Bruce had asked, not sure what to expect. From Fury's venomous tone, he was pretty near positive he hated the man.

"Genius, billionaire, playboy, philanthropist." Tony Stark's voice yanked Bruce from the memory.

"_What?_' Bruce asked, not sure what was going on.

"You were staring," Tony informed him matter-of-factly, hands busying themselves with the cleanup process. "I didn't know if you knew who I was—although, I certainly _hope _that's not the case—so I decided to provide a couple helpful hints." He winked at the doctor, who stared back, still in shock.

"You're Tony Stark!" he blurted out, immediately blushing when he realized how lame he sounded. _God_, he sounded completely ridiculous.

Much to his surprise, Tony didn't seem to mind at all. He must get that a lot. "And bingo was his name-o," he smirked.

Finally able to close his mouth and act somewhat normal—and _not_ like a fangirl who had just happened across her favorite actor in the middle of Walmart—Bruce decided to apologize for the mess. "I'm normally not such a klutz, I swear. I just wasn't expecting for _you_ to be the person visiting me."

"Oh, you're fine," Tony said absentmindedly, depositing the rest of the chemical into the waste bin that was set aside for radioactive materials. "You're not the first S.H.I.E.L.D. scientist who has dropped something in my presence." Glancing up from the trash can, he threw Bruce another wink, which made him suspect that he was being flirted with. But, the flirting quickly disappeared as his voice sounded curious all of a sudden. "However, you're the first to drop radioactive materials. What does Director Eyepatch want with gamma radiation?"

Now suspicious, Bruce raised an eyebrow, studying Tony's expression to decipher what his intentions were. When he realized the answer wasn't written on Tony's face, he shook his head. No, he couldn't just give something like that away. "Nice try, Stark, but you don't have clearance. If you want answers, you have to gain Fury's permission first."

Instantly, Tony was begging. "Pretty please?" he pleaded, making a pathetic face at the scientist. "Fury will _never _give me clearance, because he hates me! Please, just tell me! I promise I won't tell nobody!"

"Forgive me for not believing you," he said, crossing his arms across his torso. Tony cursed under his breath.

"You really aren't going to break, are you?" he asked, pouting and completely losing his flirtatious attitude. Bruce almost wondered if he had been flirting simply to get him to give up something important.

However, no matter how many times Tony batted his eyelashes at the doctor, Bruce wasn't about to give in. "No, sorry. Come back when you have clearance."

"Whatever it is, it's important, right?" Tony looked at him, eyes digging into the cavern that held Bruce's soul. "All of your past tasks have been key to improving S.H.I.E.L.D., making them more dangerous. You're practically a legend!"

"No," Bruce retorted. "_You're _a legend. Tony Stark is a household name."

"True," Tony shrugged. "But, I'm right, aren't I?"

Hesitating, Bruce finally succumbed to those dark, bottomless brown eyes, and nodded his head. He could at least say the vague version of the truth. "Yes, it is very important."

"Well," the genius said, holding out his hand to Bruce, "I hope whatever you're doing works out."

Smiling, Bruce shook the engineer's hand. "I hope so too."

Releasing Bruce's hand after one shake, Tony added, "I'll be seeing you around," before striding out.

Little did Bruce know it at the time, they _would_ be seeing a lot of each other. Tons more than he would've expected.


	3. Chapter 3

Tony and Bruce had been working together in complete silence for nearly an hour, and it was peaceful. Peaceful to the point that Bruce cringed when Tony cleared his throat. That could only mean more inquiries, which was disappointing. While he enjoyed the fellow scientist's presence most day, his questioning had grown old.

Sure enough, Tony had something to say. "I went ahead and had JARVIS hack S.H.I.E.L.D.'s files," he began, causing Bruce to freeze. _No_, he thought, hands shifting to grip the table. _He couldn't have found out._

Fury had reassured him before that no database in S.H.I.E.L.D. had any connection drawn between the Other Guy and himself. Sure, Bruce had his own file, marked "Researcher," and the Other Guy had his own indicated as "Dangerous." But, nobody except Fury and perhaps Agents Coulson and Hill had any reasons to associate the two of them together.

However, Bruce still barely trusted his protector. Fury liked to play with power, and Bruce wouldn't be baffled if he had been lied to.

Closing his eyes, Bruce waited for Tony to announce his discovery, the one that could potentially unleash his greatest secret.

Instead, the question he got surprised him. "Why did you go from so many years of seclusion—serving as a doctor, _not_ a scientist—to suddenly moving to New York and working for one of the biggest agencies in the world? That is a sudden jump in occupations."

_Oh thank god!_ Bruce had to stop himself before he released a relieved sigh. Tony—as he had found out after his random visits over the last month—was not the type to skip over the important details. No, he felt the need to plunge straight forward into the center of the issue he was facing. There was no shyness to Tony Stark.

That meant that Fury _hadn't_ been lying; he knew for a fact that JARVIS could find _anything_, so the fact that Tony was still unaware proved Fury was telling the truth. A wave of relief washed over Bruce, and he smiled to himself, hoping Tony couldn't see.

However, he still had to answer a question. There was no need to reveal too much; a simple half-truth would suffice. So, instead of spilling all of his guts, he told him, "I got an offer, and it was considerably better, so I took it."

Still working—he hadn't really been looking at Tony the entire time, so he couldn't see his expression—Bruce thought he had settled Tony's very curious mind. After all, it was silent for long enough; he had assumed that Tony had returned to his work on his tablet.

However, when he _did_ glance up in Tony's direction, he jumped as he realized Tony had been staring at him almost as if he had x-ray vision. "Jesus, Tony!" he hissed, startled. "What are you _doing?!_"

"You're still hiding something, Doctor Banner. And I don't like it."

"So what if it's my personal business?" Bruce snapped, suddenly feeling defensive of his secrets. Unfortunately, his defense mechanism alerted the Other Guy, who suddenly became interested. Closing his eyes and pinching the bridge of his nose, he shook his head, adding, "I don't pry into _your_ personal life." All the while, he was praying to whatever was out there that he could tame the Other Guy. _He can't get out now, not ever._

Glaring, Tony argued, "But mine is well-known by everyone. I have no unknown pages to the book of my life, unlike you." Somehow, Bruce doubted that.

Looking up with his fingers still pinching his nose—the Other Guy was beginning to settle down, but he still felt like he had to keep some focus on keeping him at bay—Bruce gave Tony a tired smirk. "You tried a little too hard with that metaphor."

"Whatever," Tony said, waving it off. "I never said that I was a wordsmith. A master improviser, yes, and a very funny one at that, but I'm no Shakespeare."

"I never doubted it for a second," Bruce retorted, earning himself a sly smile.

"I think I really _like_ this sarcastic Bruce," Tony commented. "You should unlock him from his cupboard under the stairs more often."

"We'll see," Bruce said, returning to his work and smiling at the reference Tony had made.

Once again, they were quiet for a while before Tony decided to speak up.

"Fine, keep your secrets to yourself," Tony burst out. "Just so long as you let me keep my few that I have, and you don't go around telling your secrets to everyone else other than me, I won't go around, bugging you every second of the day. Deal?"

"Deal," Bruce agreed, relieved to have gotten away from the subject. Now they could return to the peaceful silence he had been enjoying earlier.

Unfortunately for Bruce, that happened to be the exact moment his concoction decided to explode.


	4. Chapter 4

"…and that was how I ended up in bed with a transvestite. Pretty cool, huh?" Tony turned his head, an expression on his face that reminded Bruce of a puppy waiting for a treat.

He'd never seen Tony like this. Then again, he didn't purposely go hanging out with a completely wasted Tony. Surprisingly, it was very amusing to watch.

Chuckling at Tony's story—which was _so_ bizarre that Bruce suspected over half of it had been created by the booze—he could only utter one word: "Wow!" Nothing else could even sum up what he was thinking at the moment.

"I know, right?" Tony asked, animating his rhetorical question by swinging his arms around. Of course, in his drunken stupor, his limbs were a little floppy, so he accidentally smacked Bruce.

"Ow," Bruce complained, rubbing his arms and throwing him a glare, but Tony didn't appear to hear him.

Instead, he kept babbling. "Sure, I loved that man for the while I was with him that night. It was something new. No, I don't love men often, even in the family-friendship way. Women are so much more loveable. So far, the only exception has been Rhoadey and Yinsen—"

"Yinsen?" Bruce asked, that name unfamiliar to him. He was _very_ familiar with Rhoadey—the man liked to cell from time to time, just to make sure Tony wasn't pulling stupid stunts or attempting to die through excessive drinking (well, excessive for Tony was way more than what _others_ would consider, so Bruce didn't exactly tell him there were any problems)—but Yinsen was a name he didn't recognize. Tony had never brought him up.

Thankfully, the drunken man was willing to quench the doctor's curiosity, since he was in a tell-all mood. Scooting forward on the sofa to prop his elbows on his knees, he confessed, "I loved that man. Not in the way I love women, but it's something different from Rhoadey. He's the bravest, single best person I've ever met. I've met hundreds, even thousands, of rich and powerful people, and the best person happens to have nothing. All he had was his life, his ability to survive, and he gave it all up to save my life." Only when a sob escaped Tony's mouth did Bruce realize that Tony was crying. "I didn't deserve it. Not one bit of it."

Even though Tony hadn't actually said it, Bruce _knew_ that it had to be someone from Afghanistan. He had heard on the news about his escape—the media almost imploded from excitement about the CEO of the best weaponry in the country's escape from death, so of course _everyone_ knew about it—but nobody had ever mentioned someone aiding him in his escape. It made sense, though. Tony couldn't have attached a battery to himself without help.

Rubbing his knuckles gently between the genius's shoulder blades, Bruce blurted, "Of course you did. You deserve every bit of life."

"No I don't," he whispered, his voice so low and raw that Bruce had to listen carefully to catch what he was saying. "He gave me the gift of life, and I'm wasting it on meaningless _shit!_" Now his voice had risen to a shout, and Bruce flinched. There was a slight rumbling in the back of his mind, but he knew it was only the Other Guy's agitation at Tony's risen voice. He was in no danger right at the moment.

Stumbling to find the right words, Bruce managed to argue, "But, if you had died, Iron Man would never have been created! As Iron Man, you have done good, no, _great_ things. You could have used it as a weapon of mass destruction, you could have sold off the plans to someone and used it as just another military weapon. But you didn't! Sure, Rhoadey took off with one of yours, but you kept the rest to yourself, and have used your Iron Man as a tool for saving lives. I… I think Yinsen would be proud."

Tony was silently sobbing next to Bruce, his shoulders shuddering from withholding cries of sorrow. Finally, wordlessly, he leaned back and sideways into Bruce's arms, pressing their sides together, wrapping his arms around his torso, and burying his head into the crook of Bruce's neck.

They sat like that for a while, Tony releasing all of his anguish in tears and Bruce clinging to his broken friend, as if Tony were about to shatter into dust and blow away. However, after a while, Tony's sobs subsided, and Bruce realized how comfortable this position was. Something stirred and swelled in his chest, something he couldn't identify.

Suddenly, Tony sat up, staring Bruce down. Their arms were still around each other, but there was no longer entire contact, and Bruce surprised himself by missing it. A little surprised by the sudden movement, he became quickly uncomfortable by the intensity of the stare his friend was giving him.

"Tony?" he asked, not entirely certain he wanted the answers. "What is it?"

"It's just that I thought there were only three…" He cocked his head to the side, a quizzical expression crossing his face.

"What?" Bruce was confused, not sure what he was talking about.

Turning on the sofa, angling himself toward Bruce, he said in the most matter-of-fact tone ever, "I just think I love you as well."

And then, before Bruce could react to stop what was about to happen, Tony had leaned forward, pressing a gentle kiss on Bruce's lips.

It took a moment, but when Bruce's mind finally registered what was going on, what was happening to him, he discovered he was kissing back enthusiastically, warmth seeping from all of the contact points he made with Tony's skin. Hands that were on his waist. His own hands on Tony's neck. One of his legs against Tony's.

And, from where their lips met, it was fire. Overwhelming, magical, _beautiful_ fire.

He could almost forget who he was when Tony kissed him like that.

_Almost._

His heart pounding, the Other Guy becoming very stir-crazy, Bruce had to—much to his regret—break off the kiss early and close his eyes to focus on begging his monster to calm down. As he tried to steady his heartbeat, Tony moved forward to kiss his neck, fire blooming from that spot and drugging his mind. He couldn't focus on controlling the Other Guy anymore, not when Tony's lips were kissing their way up his neck and toward his jawline. His heart racing away at a high rate, he felt the Other Guy surging forward, reaching for control.

_Oh fuck,_ he thought. _I'm going to lose it._

He was beginning to reach up, to gently push Tony off and tell him _no._ But, Tony's lips had already reached his pulse, and he quickly pulled away from Bruce, a confused look on his face.

"Your heart rate is unnaturally high," he muttered, looking to Bruce for an explanation, only to blink in surprise. "Your eyes are also green. What's happening, Bruce?"

_You think?_ Bruce thought bitterly, working hard in his mind to rope back the Other Guy. He couldn't let him break free, not now, not with Tony here. Trying to reassure Tony while simultaneously discouraging the Other Guy from reacting, he told him soothingly, "You must be imagining things, Tony. You've had a lot of alcohol, so it's probably distorting various details."

Scowling, Tony only replied, "Oh."

_Finally, _he thought, smiling. _The Other Guy has calmed down._ He felt himself relaxing, his shoulders sagging in relief. Normally, the Other Guy wasn't appeased so easily, but Bruce wasn't complaining. Now he could fully focus on taking care of Tony.

"Oh is right," he told him, helping pull him to his feet. "Do my eyes look green now?"

Tony leaned in, squinting and studying Bruce's eyes very thoroughly, but even he had to admit that Bruce's eyes were back to their natural brown.

"Told you," Bruce smiled fondly, beginning to lead him to his quarters. "Now, off to bed, okay?"

"Mkay," Tony mumbled, as if the mention of a bed helped him realize how tired and drunk he was.

Bruce helped him into his bedroom, and led him to the king-sized monstrosity, instructing him to just sleep now and change in the morning.

Just as he got him tucked in, Tony suddenly grabbed his hand, squeezing it tightly. "I love you," he murmured, drawing Bruce's hand to his face and planting a light kiss on his knuckle.

Something twisted in his body, something that left him feeling both pleased and embarrassed. Also, a little bit of panic settled in the pit of his stomach, and he found himself realizing that he _couldn't_ have this. No, it would just be too dangerous for Tony. There was no way he was going to put the man in the direct path of eventual pain, no matter how much of an ass he could be.

Forcing a pained smile onto his face, he responded, "You sleep it off, Tony. I'll be back in the morning." And then, he left Tony, closing the door behind him as quietly as he could.

He felt as if he were running as he returned to his own room. Maybe he was. His head was spinning too rapidly for him to be able to tell, and he was overwhelmed by the sensation of needing to vomit. The moment he burst into his own room, locking the door behind him, he collapsed to the floor, unable to stand any longer.

There was _no_ way a relationship with Tony was possible. Not with the Other Guy threatening his life if they kissed too deeply or argued too intensely. On top of that were so many other facts that could eventually soil the relationship: Tony's commitment issues, Bruce's slight fear of relationships, and the fact that they worked together, for starters. But, the thought that the Other Guy might tear Tony to pieces was what brought Bruce to his knees.

_Maybe it was just the alcohol talking_, Bruce thought. _Maybe Tony only loves me when he's drunk._ That suddenly seemed like a possibility, so Bruce decided to accept it. Tony wasn't in love with him. He was simply drunk and would do or say anything to get sex.

Bruce would tell himself that for another hour, almost to the point that he was convinced, and every time, his heart would break more.

That's how he finally realized he was falling in love with Tony Stark.

**[Agh, complaining about pet peeve time. I HATED that I had to have Tony say, "I love you," so early. People normally don't just kiss and say, "Hey, I love you." That usually scares the other person away waaaaay too quickly. But, since Tony was drunk, it's possible he could have gotten away with saying it, since it's the alcohol talking. I'll just have to deal.**

**And I hate how I write kissing scenes. XP Sorry if it's crap.]**


	5. Chapter 5

When Bruce woke up the next morning, he already had a decision made about what he was going to do. There was no way he could risk _trying_ a relationship with Tony, not with how toxic it could become. Since the thought of _not_ sharing a romantic relationship made him as nauseous as the one of putting him in harm's way, his solution was to maintain a _friendly_ relationship, closely resembling how it was before, except better. He didn't just want a normal friendship; he wanted an _epic_ friendship, the kind of legends. And, somehow, he knew _that_ was possible.

It would never fully satisfy him, but at least he had one night to remember whenever he needed a reminder of what he was fighting for.

That's why he was there when he finally opened his eyes, aspirin and a glass of water already prepared.

"Good morning, Sleeping Beauty." Not surprisingly, Bruce realized _very_ quickly that Tony didn't want chipper good-mornings when he woke, especially if he had a hangover. Ducking to avoid Tony's alarm clock, which had been flung across the room toward Bruce's face, he chose to quickly state his purpose for being there so he didn't get a concussion from projectile items. "I put some water and aspirin on the counter for you. Whenever you're able to move from your bed into your kitchen, I will make you grilled cheese."

"How do you know what to make me?" Tony groaned, holding his head as he groggily sat up. The man certainly wasn't looking so hot, but the bed head and the fact that he was still in one of his nicer outfits didn't help his appearance any.

"I called Pepper shortly after I woke up, and she provided me with basic instructions."

"Ah."

Silence rose between them while Tony took his medicine. Bruce found himself watching the billionaire thoroughly, a lump rising in his throat. He wished he could have woken up _next_ to Tony, not in another bed. That thought was just beginning to gnaw at his emotions, but it was stopped when Tony asked a question and Bruce could withdraw from dwelling on his wishes.

"I didn't get a chance to look at it before I threw it," Tony muttered, keeping his voice low to protect his head, "but what time is it?"

"Just before one in the afternoon," Bruce automatically told him, deciding that he needed to clean up the clock parts on the floor. When he had all of the shattered pieces in his hands, he set them carefully on Tony's desk, figuring he'd find some purpose for it.

Nodding cautiously, Tony said, "Okay. What about last night? What happened?"

Bruce had originally shown up at Tony's room, expecting for him to remember nothing of last night; he'd had a _lot_ to drink. However, for some reason, it had never occurred to Bruce that he might be _curious_ about what happened.

Unable to come up with what he should say, he tried starting a sentence a couple of times, but instead gave up and said, "Nothing _extremely _important. Here, I'll go get your grilled cheese started, okay?" He quickly retreated from the room, closing the door and beginning to dig through what kitchen supplies Tony owned. Since it was only a temporary living condition, the kitchenette lacked many things; it _literally_ had the bare necessities. Thankfully, he had everything he needed for grilled cheese.

While he worked on creating the sandwich ad waited for the genius to become less out-of-it, he felt his heart pounding. He had sounded so _stupid_, trying to convince Tony nothing happened when something _had_ happened. He just couldn't _tell_ him, didn't know _what_ to tell him, so why did he have to be so damn curious?

He was going to ask again. Bruce just knew it. And when that happened, he wouldn't have a better answer ready.

_Well, no matter,_ Bruce tried to reassure himself as he flipped over the sandwich. _I decided to stay, so I will find some other way to get around it. I'll figure something out._

Just as Bruce was finishing up the grilled cheese, Tony came stumbling out of his bedroom, his hair still a mess but his body now dressed in new clothes, which was a huge improvement.

"Sorry for throwing my alarm clock at you," Tony apologized as he took a seat at the small table. "I'm not usually my sweet, innocent self when I wake up with a hangover."

"Really?!" Bruce asked, scooping the sandwich from the pan and sliding it onto the plate he had already laid out. Bringing it over to the table, he wondered aloud, "Sweet and innocent are _really_ the words you're going with?"

Sticking out his tongue, Tony declared, "Jerk!" before taking a huge bite out of his sandwich.

Chuckling, Bruce couldn't help but fondly watch his friend. The way he devoured his sandwich was actually adorable; he nibbled around the crust, and when there was none left, he tore it in half, shoving each into his mouth separately. It was way more fascinating than it should've been.

"Wow, you're a grilled cheese _artist_. That was perfect. Pepper's good, but… _wow!_" He licked his fingers, smiling. "Delicious."

"I'm glad," Bruce commented as he cleared the table, quickly washing it so he wouldn't have to add to the pile of dirty plates and silverware. He might just have to tattle to Pepper about her boss's cleaning habits, even though she most likely already knew. "Well," he said, suddenly desperate to get out so he couldn't be question, "I'll just be leaving—"

"Wait," Tony said, standing to his feet. Fear clenched in Bruce's stomach, because he didn't want to face this. Not now, not ever. He still didn't know what he was going to say! But, he couldn't avoid it for forever. Taking in a deep breath, he turned to look at him, gathering up enough strength to look him in the eyes.

"Bruce, did something happen last night?" he asked, stepping closer to Bruce, but not in a way that was leading to any scenario where they would be pressed together and making out. He wasn't even sure he _wanted_ that to happen, since it might lead to the Other Guy going crazy. "You've been acting weird, and I'm worried that I said or did something last night."

"You did nothing," Bruce tried to reassure him, but he knew it wasn't working, based on Tony's facial expression. Desperately, he attempted to convince him by adding, "I just feel kind of stressed from the work S.H.I.E.L.D. has been giving me, that's all."

"Do you lie to everyone?" Tony asked, his face saddened, as if he couldn't bear to have caused Bruce pain from something he said or did. From the crease lines and the confusion in his eyes, Bruce figured he was clueless as to _what_ happened; he'd only picked up on the changing tone of their relationship.

Slipping his hands into his pockets, Bruce looked down at the floor as he confessed, "I'm just not a trustworthy person, Tony. You have to understand that." He didn't tell Tony things to _protect_ him, not break his trust. Hopefully his eyes were conveying that.

"I… I guess I'm the same way," Tony admitted, nodding uncertainly. Taking a moment to clear his throat, he added, "_However_, I actually trust you. I just… I hope you can someday trust me too." Hurt shone on his face, and Bruce wanted to walk away, and wanted to walk forward and force their lips together at the same time.

Closing his eyes and ignoring the tears sting at his eyelids, he decided to make a compromise for his conflicting wants. "Want to come with me to the lab?" Hopefully, Tony would be able to gather that this was his apology for not being as forward as he would like.

Thankfully, Tony didn't hesitate for more than a second before nodding. "Sure. Let's go."


	6. Chapter 6

Over the course of the next couple of months, life remained much the same for the two scientists. Bruce and Tony continued to work side-by-side, whether it was serious S.H.I.E.L.D. business or they felt like seeing what would happen if they mixed this dangerous chemical with this other equally dangerous one. Tony occasionally would pester Bruce about his secrets, and Bruce would brush it off and try not to grab him by the collar and smash their lips together. He found that he was now beginning to fantasize about his science bro _constantly_, and it often led to some pretty awkward moments where he was staring off into space while Tony tried to get his attention.

He was pretty sure that Tony could tell that he was smitten for him, but the man never said anything. It made Bruce wonder if he cared at all.

Things were going _very_ well, despite the constant longing for something he couldn't have. Bruce had made significant progress on his gamma research, he'd been successful at helping Fury on a few random side projects, and he _still_ hadn't had an incident since Fury picked him up that first day. Perhaps S.H.I.E.L.D. was a blessing in disguise.

And then, suddenly, life changed drastically when the Power Struggle began. In other words, it was the Fury versus Stark war.

Of course, Tony was the first one to actually make it a big deal, even though Fury was the instigator. The director had rather politely requested in front of the entirety of S.H.I.E.L.D.'s agents that Tony help with constructing new missiles for S.H.I.E.L.D. to use on major threats. Of course, since Tony was all anti-weapons-of-mass-destruction, he stormed out, started throwing a giant fit in his lab, and used Iron Man to blow up enough of his tools and chemicals to accidentally cause an explosion that destroyed that entire corner of the base. Luckily, since there had been a meeting on the opposite side of the building, nobody was hurt. Only Tony sustained damage, but it was minimal because of his suit. He came out with a sprained ankle and a scratch on the side of his face that would leave a decent-sized scar.

Fury had been livid though. The first time Bruce was finally allowed to return to his somehow salvaged lab—in a hazmat suit, nonetheless, since radiation had flooded the hallways and the labs that were damaged—Tony was already there with Fury, who was screaming at him at the top of his lungs and swearing like a sailor. Tony looked mildly bored, but a few minutes after Bruce slunk off behind him—to begin inspecting his own tools, despite the fact that his lab had been untouched—he finally announced, "Fine, I'm done with this bullshit. I can't work with you anymore, not when you're going to treat me how _Obediah_ did." He swiftly began packing up the things that had been left in Bruce's lab. Thankfully, since the doctor's lab was much larger, most of the Iron Man models Tony had created were stored there, so they'd been safe from the explosion.

"Fine with me!" Fury shouted. "Don't expect for _me_ to be paying you any more money. In _fact_, you will be giving _me_ money, to pay for the damage you caused."

"I'll have Pepper write you a check," he snapped sarcastically as he stuffed something that was _clearly_ Bruce's into his own bag. Bruce just didn't have the heart to tell him.

"And also," Tony added, lifting his head up to look at the director, "Brucey-boy is coming with me."

"W-what?!" Bruce sputtered. His eyes quickly flickered to Fury's face, watching nervously to his reaction. The director's face was stormy, but he was now keeping his composure maintained.

"Why, exactly, is that?" he asked, his voice tight. "It appears as though he wasn't even aware of this plan. So why do you think he's coming with you?"

"You _never_ give him a break!" Tony shouted, jabbing his finger at his employer. "Not even a day-long vacation!"

"I'm fine with working," Bruce tried to interject, but Tony just continued talking over him.

"All you do is take advantage of him. He's willing to do everything you ask of him, so you just assign him all of the important tasks, when S.H.I.E.L.D. has other _perfectly_ capable scientists."

Standing stiffly, with his chin lifted higher, Fury responded, "We ask Doctor Banner for assistance because he is one of the best."

Arguments, even if he wasn't directly involved in them, tended to get the Other Guy riled up. He was waking up, preparing to fight for control over Bruce's consciousness. Bracing himself by leaning heavily against a counter and locking his jaw, Bruce closed his eyes, ready to ward his monster off.

"Being the best is no excuse for him to not have social life or leave the premises! I mean, look at how pale he is!"

Bruce snapped his eyes wide open. "Hey!" he protested, giving Tony a glare.

Turning around long enough to roll his eyes at the doctor, he retorted, "Shut up, I'm trying to help you out."

_I didn't _need_ help,_ Bruce fumed, forgetting how it was _probably_ not a good idea to get irritated when the Other Guy was active. He had to tightly grip the table to focus long enough to regain control. He could practically _feel_ his eyes shifting from brown to green.

And then, he heard Fury say, "Fine. Take him wherever, Stark. Just make sure it's okay with him, and you _return_ him." When Bruce slid his eyes open, he saw a single eye fixed on his face. Chills ran up his spine.

Ignoring that Fury wasn't even looking at him anymore, Tony responded, "Great!" before beginning to bound off with his stuff. Turning when he reached the doors, he told Bruce, "Meet me by the main entrance in an hour-ish. Bring whatever you might need." And, before Bruce could even begin to ask how long he'd be staying, the doors were already sliding closed behind the genius.

"You almost lost control, didn't you?"

Bruce turned his gaze, momentarily surprised to hear his director's voice, as if he had forgotten he was there. "Yeah, so?"

Crossing his arms, he blatantly asked, "He's been getting stronger, hasn't he?"

Shrugging, Bruce's eyes trailed along the wall as he said, "He's just restless."

"You need to be _here_, where there is a room specially prepared for when the Hulk reappears. It's safer for everyone, do you understand? Just go tell him you're not going with him to Malibu, and then you will be safe. _Everyone_ will be safe."

_Malibu_. That actually sounded good. Especially since he could be with _Tony_.

Just the thought of that was more comforting than any protection S.H.I.E.L.D. could provide.

"Nah, I'm good," he said, actually beginning to pack some of his basic lab supplies. "I think a vacation is what the Other Guy and I need. Now, excuse me, but I need to go see if any of my clothes are Malibu-appropriate." Giving a Fury a devious grin that Tony would've _killed_ to witness, he waved at Fury, saying, "Goodbye!"

**[This is ****_not_**** a problem right now, but I just wanted to begin warning everyone about what's approaching. I'm moving into my dorm on the 15th, and since this fic was WAY longer than I thought I would go, there's a possibility I might have more gaps around them while I adjust to college. Just getting that idea in your head so you're not shocked.**

**I hope my fic is going okay-ish.]**


	7. Chapter 7

After spending so much time with Tony, Bruce sometimes had moments when he forgot that Tony was wealthy. Normally, in public, where the paparazzi were watching constantly, Tony _acted_ rich; he was arrogant, _sometimes_ bitchy, and was a hardcore partier. And yet, whenever it was just the two of them, Tony acted like a normal guy who had a passion for building things.

It was almost as if he trusted Bruce enough to drop his celebrity façade altogether.

When Tony had led Bruce to a private jet, he had another one of those moments where he forgot Tony was worth so much more than the average man. He found himself giving Tony an odd look before he contain his expression. He got an odd look in return, but Tony didn't say anything.

The jet was nothing like anything Bruce had experienced. It was confining; not as much as the helicopter Fury picked him up in on that first night, but bad enough that he was constantly paranoid the Other Guy would break out. But, in other ways, completely _different_ ways, it was so much more relaxing than Bruce would've expected.

It certainly helped that a certain someone was constantly there.

"We're almost there, Brucey-boy," Tony told him when he noticed Bruce was gripping the armrests in a severe death hold. The playboy's brown eyes spelled out concern, but the rest of his face remained serene. "You don't like flying, do you?"

Chuckling nervously, Bruce lessened his grip and said to his feet, "It's most certainly not my _favorite_ method of travel."

"Sorry," Tony quickly responded, taking a moment to clear his throat. "I should've asked before we left. We could've gone by car."

Bruce wasn't sure which scenario sounded worse.

"You're fine," he said, noting that the Other Guy had given up interest. _He's bored that nothing new has happened for a while._

While silence settled between the two friends, Bruce remembered a question he'd been meaning to ask at some point during the traveling. Clearing his own throat, much in the same manner Tony had, he began, "Tony?"

"Yeah?" Something shifted behind his irises, but Bruce couldn't decode what it was.

Taking in a deep breath—he knew he wouldn't be able to breathe again until the question was finished—he asked, "Why is it you could return home by yourself, but you asked me to come along?" And, before he could stop his lips from moving, he tacked on, "And why are you so determined to defend me?"

Tony snorted at the last question, rolling his eyes. "Wow, um. Here's the thing; I don't think you know how to defend yourself."

"Y-yes I can!" Bruce sputtered, feeling a little protective of himself.

Pointing at him, Tony said, "See, that's the kind of self-defense I see. You stutter over your words, and, because of that, people don't take you seriously. You're crawling right now, big guy; you need to _strut_."

"_Strut?_" Bruce groaned. _That sounds way too feminine for me._

"Oh, that's not the kind of attitude I want to hear," Tony complained.

Giving him a glare, Bruce pointed out, "You're ignoring my first question."

"Am I?"

"Yes," he said, continuing to glare at Tony, "you are."

"Well, Tony began, shifting his position in the chair he had occupied the entire flight, "I mean, I'm _halfway_ ignoring it. Part of the reason you're here is because you're in desperate need of a vacation, but you won't stand up for yourself and _ask_ for one! That ties directly into your second question, so you can't say I'm _entirely_ ignoring it. And then," he added, standing to his feet, "there is _another_ reason. One that is so much more important than your vacation." He was no directly in front of Bruce, leaning over him and leaving him trapped.

Bruce felt his heartbeat slipping up to an unhealthy rhythm. It was intoxicating, sitting being this close to the man he was quickly falling in love with, and he found that he _couldn't _care about the Other Guy when Tony was leaning closer to him that way, his head turning to the side to allow for his lips to align with Bruce's ear. The air that escaped his lips left a tingling sensation in Bruce's ear that flooded through the rest of his body, and he discovered that it was impossible to keep his breath steady.

"But," Tony whispered huskily, "there's just one _little_ problem."

His throat seeming to close up from his intense attraction to the playboy, Bruce stuttered out, "A-and w-what would that be?"

With a smile in his voice, Tony breathed, "It's a secret."

And then, within seconds, Tony was backing away, locating his seat with a Cheshire cat grin on his face. He'd _wanted_ that reaction out of Bruce, and Bruce found himself blushing a deep red. _He'd been caught red-handed_.

But, he shouldn't really be surprised. _I mean, seriously,_ he marveled to himself, _who has ever said that Tony Stark _wasn't_ a sneaky bastard?_

**[That was way more fun than it should've been, haha! Oh, and fun fact. You guys know those mini notebooks that are the size of your hand? I started one of them at the beginning of this fic, and chapter 7 finished off the entire notebook. Onto the next notebook! :)]**


	8. Chapter 8

As it would turn out, Malibu was _exactly_ what Bruce needed for his troubled mind. Even though it still involved Tony pretty much every moment of the day—that almost _promises_ chaos—he found that he was peaceful. He could focus on himself, he could relax.

By Tony's definition, relaxing was doing dangerous, unsupervised experiments "just 'cause!"

"Oh, c'mon, Brucey-boy!" Tony begged, practically skipping around from pure glee. "Just pour some of that red vial into our concoction. I wonder what it does!"

Frantically, Bruce scrabbled for the chemical before Tony could get a grip on it. "Tony, I don't think so," he said, trying to convey the seriousness of the situation in the tone of his voice. "I'm pretty sure this one is explosive."

Of course, that didn't stop Tony from trying everything he could to grab the liquid from his best friend. "And _I'm_ pretty sure this one is explosive _only_ when it catches fire. You don't see me with any matches, do you?" He held his arms out wide, as if to display he wasn't lying.

Bruce instead snorted, holding the vial further out of reach. "I don't know; I didn't check your pockets when you came in."

Feigning a gasp and a fainting spell, Tony moaned, "Oh no! My Brucey-boy doesn't trust me! I can't have there being a lack of trust between us if we are going to be blowing up things together in the name of science!"

"So you admit we _are_ using explosive materials with the intent of igniting them?" Bruce questioned, trying his hardest to hide the grin that was creeping onto his face. Tony responded promptly by sticking out his tongue.

Even if they _were_ doing things that the military _probably_ needed to know about—just in case they caused a nuclear explosion by accident or something—Bruce couldn't be happier to be out of the way of watchful, naturally paranoid eyes. He found himself more comfortable, and even though Tony would never say it out loud, Bruce knew he felt the same way. Despite his naturally outgoing personality, he had _never_ been this enthusiastic while on S.H.I.E.L.D.'s property. Now he was behaving outrageously, a behavior that Bruce couldn't help but love.

As Tony still attempted to wrestle the vial from his fellow scientist's hands, Bruce decided now was the perfect time to ask. Tony was more likely to provide a more accurate answer if he was sidetracked.

"Tony?"

"Hmph?" he grunted, missing again.

Dancing around the lab table to get out of the determined genius's way, he asked, "Why did you start calling me Brucey-boy?"

"Dunno," Tony said, lurching forward but his hands still a few inches short. Letting out an exasperated sigh, he announced, "I just thought it sounded endearing."

"Endearing?" Bruce froze in his tracks, panting as he gave Tony a confused look that hopefully said _explain_. "In what way?"

"Just—" Tony took the opportunity to snatch the chemical from Bruce's stilled hands, "—_endearing_." Before Bruce even had the opportunity to blink, Tony was sprinting away.

"Hey!" Bruce shouted, breaking into a run as he chased the billionaire around his lab. "Give that back! It's not safe!"

"Not a chance!" Tony cackled, rounding the corner. Unfortunately, he sprinted a little _too_ sharply, and his feet slipped out from underneath him. There was a sudden crash as he fell that caused Bruce to flinch.

"You okay?" he called out, not really sure he wanted to see Tony's condition. He _knew_ that chemical was dangerous if skin was exposed to it.

But, before he could worry too long, Tony was onto his feet, flinging his shirt off his body as quickly as he possibly could. Before it could even hit the ground, Tony was surveying himself, announcing victoriously, "I'm good!"

Releasing a breath he hadn't realized he'd been holding, he cautioned Tony, "There's still the glass to worry about, so don't move."

"JARVIS, get somebody on cleanup crew, kay?" Tony commanded toward the ceiling.

_I'm sending Dummy over. Is he suitable, sir?_

"Suitable enough."

_Oh, and Miss Potts is here._

"Tony, what did you do?!" Pepper came striding in instantly after JARVIS spoke, her heels clicking loudly against the tiled floor, her eyes instantly scanning the disaster that was Tony's lab.

"I'm fine, Pepper!" he protested at the same moment that Bruce chose to announce, "I tried to tell him that chemical was dangerous!"

And, as if their entire lives were a part of a sitcom, the concoction began boiling right on cue.

Letting out a sigh that Bruce knew was exaggerated—sometimes Pepper liked to behave overly dramatically when Tony was being stupid—she announced, "Okay boys, that's enough playing around with radioactive or flammable or nuclear or whatever-it-is materials for one day. I ordered pizza, which should be here soon, so get upstairs. And also, Tony, make sure you get a shirt." The mention of Tony's lack of a shirt caught Bruce's attention—he'd been so frantic about Tony that he hadn't noticed—and he had to quickly keep his eyes from ogling at his bare chest.

"C'mon, Brucey-boy," Tony announced, avoiding all of the glass by climbing onto the lab table and cleverly avoiding the chemical that had leaped from their container once it had begun to react, "we need to go upstairs and mourn the lost life of my favorite AC/DC shirt."

Bruce snorted as he helped Tony down, because he couldn't find any of his dwindling depression to pull from and offer Tony condolences, despite it only being a shirt. For the first time in his life, everything just seemed so good that he couldn't muster up sadness. He was _happy_.

And, no matter how insane and unpredictable it was, living with Tony Stark, the Other Guy hadn't been disturbed. Even _he_ was content.

Everything was perfect.

Well, it _was_ perfect, until it wasn't anymore.

**[Because, after all, didn't I say that Bruce and Tony would be dating before Tony saw the Hulk? :)]**


	9. Chapter 9

**[I apologize for being a day late. Even though I ****_love _****reading it, intense romance scenes are difficult for me to focus on, especially since my mind keeps urging me to braid my hair and look up what my favorite color says about me during my late-night writing sessions. Yay for a very short attention span!**

**I actually intended to finish this chapter last night around eleven-ish, type it up and edit it, and post it before what would be one this morning. Of course, what happens? A David Tennant Youtube Marathon happens, that's what! So, in other words, nothing got accomplished until it ****_was_**** one. So, yeah. A very long explanation for what could've easily been summed up as, "I'm a professional procrastinator."]**

"Do you ever want to go back?"

Bruce glanced up from his work, a little worried by Tony's tone. He wasn't talking with his normal gusto. No, he sounded almost… worried, nervous. Even his eyes seemed to say the same thing.

Something was haunting Tony Stark, and Bruce wanted to destroy whatever it was.

"Tony, are you alright?" he asked, trying not to sound _overly_ concerned. Not as concerned as he felt, that is. He was _incredibly_ worried, but Tony already looked like a cornered animal. He didn't want to freak him out any more.

"I-I'm fine," he said, his voice cracking like dried twigs. All of his defenses, all of his cocky hyperness, was gone, and he sounded like a kicked puppy. "Just answer my question."

Sighing, too worried to even move towards his friend for fear of him shutting down, Bruce pointed out, "I'm not even sure what 'back' you're referring to!"

"S.H.I.E.L.D., I meant," Tony said, mussing up his slicked back hair with his fingers. "Do you want to return to Fury?"

Hesitant—he was sure there was an answer that Tony wanted specifically, he just didn't know exactly what it was—he asked, "Why?"

"Just answer me, please!" He was begging, and Bruce could tell Tony was severely distressed. It almost looked like a panic attack.

Quickly, trying to soothe his best friend into relaxation, he made his way over, making sure to keep eye contact as he placed his hand on Tony's shoulder. The genius's eyes slid shut, and he began trembling uncontrollably. _Okay,_ Bruce noted as Tony had to gasp with every breath, _he's definitely having a panic attack._ Even though he had his _own_ set of attacks, he didn't have the slightest idea how he could help his friend. Usually _his_ ended with him turning big and green.

Deciding the best thing to do was make a little more contact—by reaching down and taking Tony's right hand in his left—and answer his question, he told him truthfully, "Not particularly." Taking in a deep breath, he added, "I mean, if you _want_ for me to leave, I will—" he sincerely doubted this was the case, but he didn't want to assume—"and I will most _definitely_ return if you are as well. But, if I had a choice, I would like to stay here."

"I don't believe you," Tony managed to whisper between his ragged breaths, his eyes closed shut. "You have a good job there. Fury likes you. _A lot._" Opening his eyes, he asked in a strained voice, "What is keeping you here?"

There was fear in his eyes, and that's when Bruce developed that Tony was afraid of him leaving, which sparked the panic attack.

His stomach clenched, fear and hope battling for control over his emotions. No, it couldn't be because of _that_.

Forcing a smile onto his face—trying to disguise the battle going on in his mind—he shifted both of his hands to Tony's face, keeping them firm so he knew he was serious. "For beginners, Fury is an _asshole_." Even while he was still trembling, Tony very audibly snorted, and Bruce's smile began leaking into his voice. "I don't trust him, so I'd be happy to be _anywhere_ else." Tacking on a sincere smile—this one, honestly, wasn't forced—he added, "And, also, I would _miss_ you. I'm so used to being around you every day, I think I would feel like someone chopped off a vital limb or something."

Making a confused face, Tony asked, "Aren't all limbs vital?"

Laughing, Bruce responded, "You know what I mean. But, I'm being serious. I wouldn't mind returning if you were coming with me, but you're really the only person I've connected with at S.H.I.E.L.D., and it would be pretty ridiculous being there if you weren't with me."

That was as close to a confession as Bruce could bring himself.

As it dawned on Tony what Bruce was saying, he relaxed, his shoulders sagging with relief. For a moment, all he did was take a few deep breaths, but when he finally moved, he took Bruce into a giant bear hug, wrapping his arms around Bruce's waist and nestling his face into his shoulder, clinging to him as if he hadn't seen him in forever. As he had moved forward, Bruce's hands slipped from his face and he wrapped his arms around Tony's neck, praying that Tony couldn't feel his racing heartbeat from their close proximity.

It was comfortable, _so _comfortable, and Bruce didn't want to ever move.

"Sorry," Tony said into his neck, holding their positions for nearly a minute before he lifted his head. When he did, a nervous smile took over his face, one that was innocent in a way that made Bruce's heart decide to run a marathon. "I normally don't… you know, freak out around, um, people. I'm really sor—" He cut off as he caught Bruce's eyes, suddenly focusing all of his attention on them, _studying_ them.

Almost sounding dumbfounded, he uttered, "Your eyes are dilated."

A startled Bruce felt his heart stop, and he barely had enough time for his brain to register what was happening when a sober Tony's lips were on his, persistent in finding confirmation of what he had seen.

Bruce was too emotionally overwhelmed to be able to remember he was _not_ supposed to be doing this.

All he could keep thinking was, _This is real. This is really happening. Tony's not drunk and we're kissing. This. Is. Real. _Until he couldn't think anymore.

The kiss was hot, fiery, needy. They were fighting for dominance, pulling each other closer with whatever they could latch their hands onto, trying for every part of their body to touch, to _feel_ each other.

Bruce was drowning in fire and passion, and he couldn't find the ability to care. It was too _perfect_ to care.

Tony released his lips, gasping up air. Bruce found he was too intoxicated by lust to move his head from where it was, so Tony took it as an opportunity to rest his head against Bruce's, their breath tickling each other's face.

It was when Tony's lips found Bruce's again that a very loud roar echoed through Bruce's mind.

Bruce didn't even have time to wonder what Tony would think, but he was already out the door when that thought briefly occurred to him. It was quickly forgotten in his race to get out. He had to be a safe distance from Tony's house before the Other Guy took over if he was going to keep him safe and Pepper safe.

There was no stopping the Other Guy this time, so Bruce didn't even waste time on that helpless task. No, he just took off running.

Thankfully, Tony's house didn't have many floors, and he was only one above from the main, so Bruce was able to escape quickly, running as far as he could. And equally as lucky, they were the only people for several miles; there were _plenty_ of secluded spaces to release the Other Guy without disturbing everyone. Once he located one—a clearing in the middle of a wooded area—he let all of his defenses against his monster go, letting his last thought be, _I hope Tony can forgive me_, as his consciousness turned green and disappeared altogether.

**[I think it's official; I'm never happy with my kissing scenes. :\ Hopefully you guys disagree with me.]**


	10. Chapter 10

Dawn was just beginning when Bruce woke up, too cold to remain unconscious any longer. His nose was stopped up, and his throat ached just slightly, but that wasn't as concerning as trying to piece together his scattered memories. It always took him a couple of minutes to gather them, knitting them into a patchwork of occurrences. Sometimes, the Other Guy even offered helpful hints as to _his_ activities while Bruce was forced out of consciousness. It was a rarity, but he always appreciated it when it _did_ happen.

Rubbing his bare arms to create some warmth—his shirt had shredded during the transformation, as had his pants—he tried to recollect the day before. He'd been working with Tony; that was obvious. He'd run into the forest for a reason he couldn't remember, a reason which would come to him in a moment.

A flash of green filled his vision, quick glimpses provided by the Other Guy himself. Rolling his eyes when the images, he snorted at the Other Guy's true intentions. He was basically bragging about how obedient he'd been, only throwing a few trees around and staying in the same spot the entire time. _Look at what a good monster I am!_

Sighing, he thought to himself, not sure whether he could be heard, _You know, the fact that you still broke out tells me you're _not_ a good monster._ Not surprisingly, there was no response; he was probably recovering from the exertion of breaking into Bruce's mind. He'd be back within fifteen minutes, without a doubt.

_Okay, what else?_ He'd been in the labs with Tony… Yeah, he _got_ that part. And then, Tony had been… weird. Ah, yes, now he remembered the panic attack. It took Bruce a couple more seconds to recall the trigger, and by that point, he already remembered the earth-shattering kiss.

_Oh god what have I done?_ Now he felt sick, and he actually had to double over for a moment. _No, no, no! Why didn't I stop him?!_ he thought, frantically pulling at his curls. _Oh, yeah, right, because you're in _love_ with him. Idiot._

Forcing himself to stand to his feet and take deep breaths, he began walking in the direction he remembered coming from, very conscious of his lack of clothing.

_This is going to create too many questions that I can't answer_, he fretted. There was no way he was going to threaten Tony and Pepper by telling them his greatest secret. But there was no way around the majority of inevitable questions, especially the one regarding his missing clothing.

_Why should I care?_ he thought. He was losing Tony either way. From the looks of it, without knowing what _really_ was going on, it looked as if Bruce had played the playboy, stealing his love and kisses before running off with them, a thief in the night. Without telling the horrible truth, forgiveness was out of the question.

If he was in Tony's shoes, he wouldn't forgive himself either.

As the sinking dread weighted down his shoulders, he realized he was at the house. Moving quickly, praying that Tony had no paparazzi stalking in the bushes, he got to the door as quickly as he could, closing it behind him.

_Welcome, Doctor Banner, _JARVIS announced at his entrance, startling him half to death.

"Jesus, JARVIS!" he said, louder than he intended. Of course he then froze, listening carefully for approaching footsteps.

_You must hurry, Doctor Banner,_ the AI urged, _Mister Stark was alerted by your arrival. I had Dummy bring down some of your clothes and place them to your left. I suggest you change quickly_.

"How did you—" Bruce began to ask, but decided against it, not sure he wanted the answer. Of _course_ JARVIS would know; he should've already expected that. Taking the jeans and shirt and pulling them on as quickly as humanly possible without falling, Bruce somehow managed to be presentable when Tony made it downstairs.

Immediately, Bruce noted Tony's bloodshot eyes, most likely caused from crying or drinking. However, when he spoke, the latter idea was immediately scratched out. There was _no_ way he could be drunk _and_ talk that steadily. "Bruce, you need to start explaining yourself."

"I can't," Bruce confessed, closing his eyes, ashamed that he couldn't do more.

"_Why_ must you always keep secrets?" Tony demanded, keeping his voice controlled and level, but not enough to keep his hurt from seeping into his tone. "You know almost everything about me, but I don't even know anything about you _childhood_. How can I even try a committed relationship with you when I barely know anything about you?"

_He was going to try a relationship? A _real_ relationship?_ Bruce blinked, amazed that the playboy was willing to change his lifestyle _just for him!_

No, but Tony was right. It _couldn't_ work with all of these secrets, and there was no way Bruce would tell. "Then you shouldn't try," he said, trying ot keep his voice cold and emotionless.

Unfortunately, Tony heard something in his voice that he _couldn't_ keep out. "But you want to," he said, stepping forward, cautious and calculated. "You want a relationship, but refuse to allow it. Why is that, Doctor Banner?"

Bruce didn't know what to say. He wanted so _desperately_ to release everything that had been bubbling in his lungs for so long, almost to the point he felt like he couldn't breathe. He _somehow_ had to find enough words to repair their friendship, and _only that. _That's all he needed to be satisfied.

"It's not safe," he blurted before he meant so speak. Tony flinched, and Bruce realized how it sounded. "Not like that! I think you're a safe person… ish." After all, Tony _did_ have his moments.

Snorting at the last little bit, he asked, "So what is it, then?" Despite looking somewhat irritated by Bruce's running away stunt a couple hours ago, he did seem excited that Bruce was opening up to him, even if it was leading toward rejection.

Shaking his head, Bruce tried to think of the vaguest way to express his problems without coming off like a serial killer who was trying to hide his past. So far, there was only one response that would be _less_ creepy, so he decided to go with it. "Bad things always seem to happen to the people I become _too_ close to, especially if we move too fast in our relationship."

Bruce could tell Tony's mind was trying to calculate whether he was lying or not; he had his scientist expression on. Finally, after thinking for a while, he asked, "You're not a target for a murderer, are you?"

"No!" He said, somewhat pleased that Tony assumed he was a target, not the actual murderer. Even though he kind of was.

"Good," Tony said. "I don't want an untimely death in the peak of my fame."

"Not everyone dies," he pointed out, "but they end up getting at least injured. It's like I have a curse." _A big, ugly, green curse._

"You're not cursed," Tony protested, reaching forward to grasp Bruce's hand. He should've flinched away, but he couldn't. "There's no way someone as caring as you could be cursed! You are as caring as Pepper, and she's the most caring person I know. I mean, people don't put up with me very easily; you need to be some kind of angel to handle me."

Feeling a lump growing in his throat, he said, "Sadly, I'm pretty sure I'm cursed."

"Is that why you ran?" Tony asked tenderly, a loving tone that Bruce had never heard from his mouth before. "You ran because you thought you were cursed and I would be harmed?"

_Because you _were_ almost killed_ he wanted to say, but he couldn't. Instead, he only nodded.

"Oh, Bruce," Tony said sadly, just looking at him with pity. "I'm not stupid; I know there's more going on than you're saying. I mean, you ran off and came back in different clothes. There's no way something's _not_ going on. But, regardless, I still want you." His hand shifted to Bruce's face as he froze, and he cradled his cheek. _Tony wants me, _Bruce thought in awe, finding it impossible to believe that someone would want him, in spite of all the lies and secrets.

Now holding Bruce's face in both hands, he asked, "What about this? What if I took things slow? You said it got bad if we moved slow, right?"

"Tony, I don't think that will—"

Bruce was cut off by lips on his, drowing out his voice altogether. But, before Bruce could even _slightly_ panic, Tony let him go.

"Hear me out, okay?" he asked. "You want this, I want this, but we both have reasons why this could be a bad idea. You have reasons that you can't tell me, and I'm horrible with serious relationships. If we took things slow, at whatever pace you want, and you remind me to behave from time to time, we could potentially have a great romance going. And, if it's becoming dangerous for either of us, we pull the plug. How does that sound."

There were so many reasons why this could be a bad idea. Eventually, something would happen to cause their relationship to blow up in the face; it was inevitable. But, Bruce was desperate. He _wanted_ the deal; he wanted to try a relationship with Tony and hopefully have it work. He just wanted Tony so badly. In the end, he decided it was a risk he was willing to take, especially if he could call it off if the Other Guy became too dangerous. "Fine," he agreed, "we can try it slow."

"Good!" Tony chirped, dragging their faces together for another quick kiss.

And, to Bruce's amazement, the Other Guy still didn't respond.

**[Was that an okay-ish resolution to that specific problem? I can't tell... But I am very glad people are enjoying this!]**


	11. Chapter 11

After Bruce's awkward-then-good encounter with Tony that night, life definitely… _changed_. He was never going to call it amazing or perfect; to be honest, there were still absolutely dreadful days. Sometimes, Bruce's paranoia about harming his boyfriend almost set the Other Guy off, and he was often terribly worried about their future. There were too many unanswered questions in the back of Bruce's mind. What if he needed to end the relationship? Would Tony accept? Would their friendship be tarnished forever? And what if _Tony_ was the one who ended it? Was it possible for Bruce to recover either way? Some nights, Bruce would panic so badly he couldn't sleep.

There were also _plenty_ of fights; Tony had very short-tempered days, days when he wished for a relationship that was _more_ than two men who would occasionally kiss and would only share the bed for sleeping. Some days, he wanted _less_. There were so many times Bruce had rush out and find a quiet space for him to calm down and the Other Guy to become bored, and every time he returned, Tony would either be incredibly upset or incredibly drunk. A few times when they argued, they became so loud that Pepper had to intervene only so she could concentrate.

It was almost dysfunctional, but all beginning relationships are rocky. Especially theirs, since there were so many things at stake.

But, despite the constant disagreements and unbearable nights, the good always seemed to outweigh the bad.

Some of Bruce's favorite moments involved the all-nighters they would pull, especially if they stayed awake for forty-eight hours or more. By the second day, Tony would behave like a happy drunk, and Bruce would be _extremely_ slap-happy.

"You're so beautiful," he'd giggle, even though Bruce was still wearing the glasses Tony claimed made him look like a large-eyed insect about four hours before.

"You're tired," Bruce would respond back, abandoning his gloves for the opportunity to walk over and muss up Tony's hair.

"I'll only sleep if you sleep with me," Tony would say, a very devilish smirk on his face.

Rolling his eyes, Bruce would bargain with him, saying, "I'll agree to that only if 'sleep' means the literal term for sleeping, not a euphemism for sex."

Tony would always agree, only negotiating that their sleep excluded shirts.

If the all-nighters were great, the sleep was _fantastic. _Bruce loved to wake up in Tony's arms. It was his very favorite spot in the entire world. Even though Tony was determined that the _lab_ would possess such a title—he often bought new toys for Bruce to work with so the experience would always be entertaining—Bruce suspected Tony felt the same way. After all, there was always something magical about waking up in the arms of the person you love.

That's where he was when Tony broke the news to him: all cuddled up in his boyfriend's arms, perfectly content with his life for the meantime. After all, how could life be so bad when he loved someone like _Tony?_

But, when Tony's facial expression darkened, Bruce immediately became serious. That was not an expression that should ever enter a peaceful environment.

Dread settled in his stomach; was Tony about to break up with him? Were there more serious problems with their relationship that Bruce had overlooked?

And, when Tony said, "Bruce, we need to talk," he found himself verging on sickness.

He just prayed the Other Guy wouldn't come out this time.

Trying to keep his voice level and the absolute terror from his eyes, he asked, "What is it?"

He watched in horror as Tony took in a deep breath, as if he was preparing for the words that would conclude their romance. "I'm really sorry, Bruce," Tony began, with an apologetic look on his face, "to have kept this from you. It was dishonest of me, and Pepper thought it was best I introduce you to the idea, instead of springing it on you last minute. Apparently I do that, even though I personally don't see it. But, then again, I do believe that—"

"What are you talking about?" Bruce finally blurted, unable to bear his fear—and now confusion—for any longer. "You're rambling!"

Tony blinked, as if the thought of rambling had never occurred to him. "Sorry," he apologized, appearing to be as confused as his boyfriend, "I didn't mean for that."

"What did you mean for then?"

Moving his arms so that he could grasp Bruce's hands, he held them tightly, his eyes very serious. "Pepper and I are going to begin building a Stark Industries headquarters next month. It was Pepper's brilliant idea. You and I would work there, eat there, live there. It'd be home, while this—" he gestured to the walls "—would become a vacationing home."

Now Bruce was confused. "But, wait, why are you acting like its bad news, like I might smack you?" Because Tony was _truly_ cowering, occasionally checking Bruce's hands to make sure they were not in fists.

"Well… I'm pretty sure you won't like the location."

"You didn't…"

"There's a _very_ good location for a building site already lined up. Plenty of space, surrounded by good businesses, easy to access. And I will be much more eventful than a secluded house.

Releasing an overly-dramatic sigh, Bruce finally let his voice rise.

"You _know_ that I hate New York!"

**[Anybody else see where this is headed? :3**

**And also, tomorrow's the day I move into college. Cross fingers for me that it goes well, and expect for my chapter posts to be a little more all-over-the-place, instead of the usual two-to-three days.**

**I always forget to tell you guys, but thank you so much for the review and support. It always makes me excited to post the next chapter whenever you give encouragement. But don't worry, I'm open to criticism too. :)]**


	12. Chapter 12

**[Alas, my first week of college has already dominated my writing life. I was literally working between classes on this whenever I wasn't doing homework. It's been hectic, but I'm very happy here (despite not being used to this kind of schedule and freedom). I am in the dorm for the Honors College kids, so the upperclassmen worked very hard to make sure we all met each other and at least made some friends to hang out with. And, I click with a lot of them. Like, literally, two of the first people I met are HUGE Doctor Who fans. And I made one friend because one of the Doctor Who girls mentions Starkid and then Darren Criss, and she was behind us, and she whipped around and was like, "You guys like Darren Criss?!" In other words, this college was perfect for me. But I'm already busy.**

**I'm sorry, you probably didn't want to hear my college story. You're here to read a new chapter, after all! This one might be a little... odd, because I wrote this in such tiny spurts. Continue to be patient with me; I really appreciate it!**

**This is fluff-ish, so that kind of makes up for my absence, right?]**

"C'mon, Brucey, just come with me. It'll be fun, I swear. Pepper got a reservation for one of the best hotels in New York, and it would be a waste to cancel. Although… I don't believe she told me which one… So I can't let you know what kind of entertainment they'd have."

Bruce rolled his eyes, switching which ear the phone was propped against. "Tony, I was there, with you, for almost an entire _week_. I had a pretty severe panic attack in the middle of Times Square." That had been a particularly bad day. He didn't want a repeat of Harlem in the middle of a crowded place _ever again_. That's part of why he was refusing to visit his hard-working boyfriend at his project, which meant they wouldn't be seeing each other for another couple of days.

Apparently, by Tony's standards, that was unheard of.

"But I _miss you!_" Tony whined, his voice sounding shrill over the phone, causing Bruce to quickly move it away until he was done talking.

"I miss you too," Bruce told him honestly, pressing the phone between his shoulder and ear to free his hands up for his experiment. "But you know that I won't have much fun. It becomes overwhelming if I'm in a crowded place for either too long or too often." _In other words, the Other Guy will think it's Playland._

He could practically _hear_ Tony shaking his head at him. "You're far too paranoid, Brucey-boy. Granted, I am too, but unlike you, I loosen up and have some fun from time to time." There was a sudden crash in the background, and Tony began swearing. "Shit, Dummy! There's a fucking _counter_ there. Are your sensors busted or something?" There was a click, as if Tony had set the phone down, and rustling and swearing commenced in the background.

_Sorry, sir_, JARVIS commented as his voice came over the phone, slightly startling Bruce, who wasn't used to JARVIS being _everywhere_. In his British accent he added, _Mister Stark will return in a moment_.

"You are alright," Bruce said, relaxing his shoulder as he grabbed the phone with his hand. This wasn't the first time JARVIS felt the need to entertain him when Tony abandoned the phone, and Bruce sincerely doubted it would be the last. Tony was far too easily distracted for that to be the case.

_Thank you, sir_, JARVIS responded, and then sank into silence.

As Bruce waited on Tony to finish dealing with Dummy—most likely, he'd forgotten he was on the phone and was now in the process of repairing the robot—and continued working, he smiled to himself. Despite Tony being gone all of the time and his own lack of visits to New York (only one so far, since he'd been putting it off), the relationship had reached its steadiest. On the nights that Bruce became especially lonely in Malibu—he claimed that his main reason for was because all of his equipment from S.H.I.E.L.D. was stationed there, but he primarily just had a problem with cities—they would Skype each other and send each other text messages on and off throughout those days. It was amazing, how easily their relationship still flowed, uninterrupted by life. Mentally, they might as well not be far away from each other; the physical distance, however, helped Bruce to relax. The Other Guy had been becoming super stimulated before Stark Towers was being built. But, once he got a break from an every-moment-of-the-day relationship, from the kissing and the shared bed—no matter how much he missed it—he found he was calm.

It made every moment Bruce was physically in front of Tony all that much better.

For instance, when Tony came to take Bruce to New York, he hadn't even found his begging all that irritating. "It's incredible," he'd whined, "and you're just missing out on life by cooping yourself up in Malibu. I've got something to show you, anyways."

After a ton of serious debate, Bruce finally agreed to the idea, desperately hoping that _somehow_ he wouldn't destroy New York… _again_. However, he wasn't expecting something as… _magical_, as what Tony had planned for him.

Because, apparently, nothing in New York was too expensive for Tony Stark.

He'd started Bruce's visit by renting out the Empire State Building. Bruce couldn't even _joke_ about that. By renting out, he _literally_ asked the people in charge how much he would have to pay to get tourists to quit showing up for a couple hours, a price which he then had enough cash to pay in full. So, instead of it only being a crowded tourist attraction—which it _was_ crowded normally, based on the last time Bruce had gone before his accident—the Empire State Building became a romantic—if not chilly—location for the both of them.

Despite having to practically be dragged there, Bruce had to admit that it was a fantastic date. Tony had hired a chef and some waiters to serve them food, and they'd seated themselves close to the edge, looking at the brilliant city below them. And, somehow, Bruce felt _good_. It didn't matter that they shared few words. It didn't matter that they were high up. It most _certainly_ didn't matter that Bruce would have to face the swollen city when they left.

All he could do was watch the city and marvel at how _in love_ he was with Tony.

Over the course of those couple of days, Tony always had something for the two of them to do together out of the public's watchful eye, which ranged from a picnic in front of the Statue of Liberty to a lazy cuddle day in the hotel Pepper had gotten them. While it sometimes became nauseatingly romantic, Bruce loved how Tony was trying his hardest to make New York be a positive association for Bruce, a place where he could remember love and romance.

If it hadn't been for the Other Guy becoming over-stimulated on the bustling streets—_and_ almost getting loose, an event which made him decide he was best off returning to Malibu—Bruce might've believed him.

"Sorry about that." Tony's voice woke Bruce from his daydreaming. He blinked, surprised he had zoned out for so long.

"You're fine," he said, still a little disoriented. He might as well have been _in _New York, with how absorbed he was into his thoughts.

And yet, as Tony launched into the story of repairing Dummy and how much he wanted Bruce to come _back_ to New York, Bruce couldn't stop smiling.

Because, one thing was certain, as certain as the light from the sun would warm the Earth as long as it kept burning.

He loved Tony. With everything, he loved him. And it was reason enough to smile.


	13. Chapter 13

**[Aaaaagh! I'm sorry, I'm so horrible at finding time to write during college (especially with Netflix and The Lizzie Bennet Diaries). And this was such a lame-short scene (even though it was probably going to be the same way, even if it was still summer). I'm soooo sorry. But it's kind of transitioning and stuff. I feel really bad that I keep making you guys wait, and then go and post something that isn't top-quality. I'm going to keep trying to be better.]**

"I can't believe that you actually _finished_ it!" Bruce exclaimed, watching as Tony smirked with pride.

Trying to keep his voice irritated—but failing pretty badly at it—he asked, "What, are you under the impression that I never finish things? I'd like to remind you of how many Iron Man suits I completed when we were at S.H.I.E.L.D. _And_ I took on tons of projects on top of that—"

Laughing at Skype, Bruce responded, "I meant how _quickly_ you finished it. Such a huge project should've taken forever!"

Of course, that still wasn't such an appealing response to Tony, who pouted at him. "Are you now saying that I am slow?"

Tired of Tony's faked-hurt-feelings—no matter how adorable and amusing it could be—Bruce smiled as he shook his head. "You know what I mean. I'm proud of you; really, I am!"

"Does that mean you will come visit me, then?" He sounded so hopeful, Bruce was tempted to tell him yes. But, for his own safety—no, _both_ of their safeties—Bruce knew what answer he needed to give. Which of course led to Tony's uproar that _he_ was lame.

As they bickered back and forth, the doorbell to Tony's Malibu home rang.

_Doctor Banner,_ JARVIS's voice said through the computer, _there is a woman at the door. And, Mr. Stark, Agent Coulson is trying to contact you. He's going to override the codes if you don't answer_.

_Oh shit,_ Bruce thought to himself as Tony began complaining to JARVIS about how his codes couldn't be overridden. _What does Agent Coulson want with Tony?_ S.H.I.E.L.D. related business, for certain; something neither of them wanted to deal with just yet.

_"__Mr. Stark!"_ Coulson's voice came over the phone in unison with the doorbell ringing again. Annoyed that S.H.I.E.L.D. was bugging his boyfriend, Bruce stood up and headed over to the door, ready to send off whatever saleswoman was trying to make a few bucks off of the Stark name.

As he opened the door—"You have reached the life-model decoy of Tony Stark, please leave your message"—Bruce found himself staring in horror at his visitor.

After all, he'd never known Agent Romanoff to be a saleswoman.


End file.
